


Love Song (The Cure)

by Clitler



Series: Destiel Playlist [15]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alive Mary Winchester, Boys In Love, Boys Kisssing, Castiel in Denial, Castiel in the Bunker, Castiel/Dean Winchester Mutual Pining, Dean in Denial, Declarations Of Love, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time Making Love, Fluff and Smut, Love/Truth Spell, M/M, Magic, Requited Love, Sam & Mary Ship It, Sassy Crowley, Spells & Enchantments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-20
Updated: 2017-11-20
Packaged: 2019-02-04 14:02:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12772596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clitler/pseuds/Clitler
Summary: Shippers Sam and Mary figure out a way for Dean and Castiel to finally get what we all know they both want.





	Love Song (The Cure)

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry, sorry, I know it's been awhile since I posted, but, ya know, life...
> 
> So, I was in the mood for some fluffy smut and so, here ya go.

Love Song (The Cure)

 

            When his brother had walked into the bunker with their resurrected mother in tow, besides the enormous shock written on the men’s faces, Sam couldn’t help but notice the indescribable relief that washed over Cas.  He saw his brother’s face light up, not when he spotted Sam sitting at the map table, but when he spied Cas already standing up to rush to the bottom of the stairs.  Dean abandoned their nightgown-clad mother at the balcony to pelt down the iron staircase, practically tackling Cas at the bottom.  The two laughed and Sam could swear he saw Dean wiping a sleeve of his green jacket across his eyes, while Cas just let the waterworks flow.

 

            After the most awkward and confusing mother-child reunion of all time and the subsequent even more awkward month that followed, Sam finally felt a little more comfortable around their mother.  At least, he had stopped finding reasons not to be in a room alone with her.  So, on this particular Saturday night, when Dean had offered to take them all out for a night at the local dive bar for beer and pool and only Cas had taken him up on the offer, Sam only squirmed a little bit when Mary approached him in the Library.

 

            “So, Sam, your brother…” Mary began tentatively, pulling a chair out across from her youngest son and sitting down on the very edge, as if ready to take flight if Sam didn’t seem receptive to conversation.

 

            Sam closed the lore book he was skimming out of sheer boredom softly and looked expectantly up at Mary.  He still couldn’t think of her as ‘Mom’, even though he’d been forcing himself to call her that, at Dean’s insistence.  She always looked as uncomfortable to hear it from him as he felt saying it.  Given her generally peevish attitude and cold demeanor since her return, he planned to keep on calling her ‘Mom’.

 

            “Well,” Mary paused to clear her throat and get a little more comfortable in her chair, “Dean, and-and Castiel, what’s, um, what’s the story there?”

 

            “What do you mean?” Sam knew damn well exactly what she meant.  He’d been noticing for years the constant heart eyes the angel was throwing at his older brother and recently, he was pretty sure Dean had finally caught on and started throwing some pretty heavy-lidded looks right back at Cas.  He sure as shit wasn’t going to out either one of them to a woman he barely knew, especially since he was fairly sure even _Dean_ wasn’t too certain what he felt for the angel.

 

            “Are they, ya know…” She trailed off, eyes widened at Sam.

 

            Sam just shook his head and furrowed his brows, “Are they what?”

 

            Mary gave him a Sam-worthy bitch face and he finally understood how Dean felt every day of their lives since Sam had hit puberty, “Are they _together_?  Like, in the Biblical sense?”

 

            Sam choked on nothing at her mention of the Bible to describe anything his brother might want to do with an _Angel of the Frickin’ Lord_ , but recovered enough to sputter out, “Um no…I don’t, um…well, I don’t think so, but…”  Sam’s jaw snapped shut before he could ramble off his own suspicions.

 

            Mary caught it, though.  She may have been 30 years older than she looked but she wasn’t stupid, and these boys weren’t her boys from her time in Heaven, but they were still _her_ boys, “But, you think they want to be?” she prompted.

 

            “Well, um, I don’t know,” Sam mumbled as he started straightening the small pile of books on the table, just so he wouldn’t have to look Mary in the eye while he lied to her.

 

            “I think they do.  I think they look at each other like your dad and I used to look at each other,” a pained look crossed Mary’s face at the mention of John.  She still had a hard time reconciling the sweet man she’d fallen in love with and the vengeance-driven drill sergeant who had raised their children in a life she never wanted for them.

 

            Sam’s shoulders slumped.  Might as well get this over with, “Well, um, what, how would you feel if they did?” he asked, softly.  He knew exactly how their father would respond and he assumed it was a generational thing.  He held his breath, waiting for Mary’s inevitable diatribe against homosexuals.  He wasn’t just worried for Dean, knowing his brother would quickly deny himself any happiness he could find with Cas if he knew Mary disapproved, he was also worried for himself.  He had experimented in college, before he met Jess, and had gone back to picking up men about half the time after he lost her.  He had accepted his bisexuality long ago, but still let Dean think he just wasn’t as promiscuous, only picking up women when Dean was around.  His brother’s apparent attraction to an angel in a male vessel had been giving Sam hope he could be more open about his own preferences.  It all hinged on Mary’s opinion now, though.

 

            Mary’s smile lit up the room like Sam had only seen his brother’s do and he was viscerally reminded, again, that this _stranger_ was actually their _mother_ , “I think it’s adorable!”

 

            Sam blew out the breath he’d been holding explosively and couldn’t help returning Mary’s eager grin, “You do?”

 

            “Yeah, of course!  Sam, all I ever wanted was for you boys to be happy.  I don’t really care if that happiness comes from a man or a woman or a purple elephant.  Well, maybe not bestiality,” she laughed lightly, “but, you know what I mean.  Why haven’t they, ya know, gotten their shit together, do ya think?”

 

            “Well, um, Dad wasn’t, like, the most accepting of what they used to call ‘alternative lifestyles’, if ya get me,” Sam stared at the table, ashamed to have to tell their mother about yet another of John Winchester’s shortcomings in raising her children, although he couldn’t figure out why he felt like that.  John had been truly horrible to them most of the time.  But, he had clearly loved them, even if he had a hard time showing it in a healthy way.  Sam was convinced he would have come around, eventually, if he were still alive.  Especially if it was Dean who came out first.  Dean was always his favorite, ever the good little soldier.  Sam thought their dad would have had a bigger issue with Cas being an angel than being in a male body, considering all the havoc the angels had caused the Winchesters.

 

            “Hmm,” Mary seemed to consider this for a moment, “Well, John’s not here, I am, and I say it’s fine.  It’s better than fine, Castiel seems to be a lovely person, if a bit weird.  And he is clearly devoted to Dean, what more could a mother ask for?” Mary was smiling again as she spread her hands out.

 

            “Well, um, I mean,” Sam nervously scrubbed the back of his neck, “that’s, um, great, Mom.  I’m glad you’re okay with that idea,” he finally looked his mother square in the eye, “We can’t tell Dean.”

 

            Mary laughed hard but finally caught her breath and sobered up, “Oh wow, you’re serious?  Why would we not tell Dean?  That might be the push he needs to tell Castiel how he feels!”

 

            Sam laughed bitterly, “Well, that right there tells me you don’t know Dean at all, Mom.”  Mary looked crestfallen, but Sam plowed on, “See, Dean’s worst enemy is _Dean._   The only person in his life who can’t see what a spectacular person he is, is _him_.  Someone once told him no one hates him more than he hates himself, and he was right.  Dean isn’t hesitant to go after Cas because he’s scared of what anyone will think, he won’t do it because he just can’t see how Cas could ever feel that way about _him_.  He honestly believes he isn’t good enough to have that kind of happiness with anyone, much less an angel.”

 

            “That’s…that’s horrible,” Mary muttered, staring blankly at the library table.  Suddenly, she brightened and gasped, “I have an idea!”

 

            Sam scrubbed at his face with both hands and pushed his fingers through his long hair, trying to collect his thoughts and stabilize his emotions.  He’d been about to try to divert Mary with a confession of his own but now, well he _really_ didn’t want his mother playing matchmaker with _him,_ so, Dean it was, “What are you thinking?”

 

            “Well, I was thinking, if all Dean needs is an indication that Castiel is interested, then we just need to get Castiel alone and ask him.  If he feels the way we both _know_ he feels, we’ll just tell him he has to make the first move,” she explained.

 

            Sam laughed again, Good Chuck, she really was from another century!  “Mom, that, uh, that won’t really work, either.  You see, as good as Dean is about denial, Cas is even better!  All the things he’s done, the things that he sees as a betrayal of Dean or just humanity in general, he thinks those past actions automatically disqualify him from being worthy of love.  Especially Dean’s love!” Sam settled back in his chair, more relaxed now than he had been since their mother walked into the bunker for the first time, “Dean is the _Righteous Man_ , Dean killed _two_ Knights of Hell, Dean bore the _Mark of freakin’ Cain_ and survived!  Cas thinks the sun shines out of Dean’s ass!  He’d never believe us if we told him Dean loves him!  Hell, he might not even believe it if Dean tells him himself!”

 

            Mary seemed to shrink ten sizes in her chair, “So, it’s hopeless?  They’re doomed to pine away for each other forever?  Always feeling inadequate, always miserable?”

 

            Sam started to nod, but then stared off toward the war room, thinking.  Mary hung her head and tried not to cry for her oldest boy, someone who’d already gone through so many terrible things, only to be denied this one little bit of happiness by his own tortured mind.  It wasn’t fair!  She really wished Amara had left her in Heaven and given her boys a much better gift: normalcy and a healthy childhood.

 

            Sam looked back at his mother and reached out, brushing her elbow to get her attention, “Mom, uh, how do you feel about witches?”

 

 

 

            “Oh, you have _got_ to be bloody joking!” Crowley yelled, staring blue fury at Sam, “Moose, I expect something this bloody stupid from you, but _Mary?_   Mother Mary freaking Winchester, hallowed be thy name?  I really had no idea such idiocy could be _genetic_ , truly, truly spectacular inheritance you gave them, Mary.”

 

            “Crowley, you owe-“ Sam started, mostly to keep his mother from running Crowley through with the nearest sharp object just out of spite.

 

            “ ** _Do not_** even finish that sentence, Moose!  I have repaid my debt to you two idiot circus monkeys!  I have repaid in blood, sweat and tears, so do not try to tell me I owe Squirrel _anything_!” Crowley crossed his arms over his chest and turned away huffily but didn’t immediately disappear, which told Sam he did feel like he owed them _something_.

 

            “You may not owe Dean, but you owe me,” Sam stated calmly, still physically restraining his mother, who sounded like she was growling low in her throat.

 

            Crowley whipped back around, hands flailing out to his sides, “And just _how_ in the bloody Hell do you figure _I_ owe _you_ anything?” he sputtered.

 

            “You talked the only family I had left into taking on the strongest and oldest curse known to Mankind to secure your own throne, that’s how I figure you owe me,” Sam bellowed as he advanced on Crowley’s much shorter body, radiating menace, “We lost Charlie trying to rid him of that damn thing!  Hell, we nearly lost the _universe_!  All so you could be King of Hell,” Sam finished with a sneer for Crowley’s blatant ingratitude.

 

            Crowley didn’t look nearly as frightened as Mary would have liked, but he did visibly lose most of his bluster, “Well, maybe I owe you a teensy little favor or two for that,” he acquiesced.  The next second, he was on to pouting, “Why can’t I just get you the spell?  Why do we have to involve _her_?”

 

            “Because,” Sam sighed, glad to give up the posturing, it always made him feel like the monster he had once been very close to becoming, “none of us can work magic of this magnitude with any finesse.  We could end up doing very real damage to one or both of them if we screwed it up.  Come on, Crowley, one last time.”

 

            “Argh!  Bloody freakin’ Winchesters!  You lot could ruin a wet dream, you know that?” Crowley pointed dramatically at Mary and Sam, then promptly disappeared.

 

            “Well, that went better than-“ Mary started.

 

            Sam held up a hand to stop her, “Don’t jinx it,” he muttered.  Before he could even lower his hand, Crowley had popped back into the library, Rowena in tow.  She looked as pissed as a wet cat, as per usual, until she realized where she was.  As soon as she spied Sam, her mask of superiority slid into place and she surveyed the room with her chin held high and calculating eyes.

 

            “Well, well, well,” Rowena began, yanking her arm from Crowley’s grip and sauntering toward Sam and Mary, “to what do I owe the pleasure of a return to the sanctum sanctorum, hmm?  And really, Samuel, are you not going to introduce me to your dear, sweet mother?  Rowena McLeod,” the witch extended her hand to Mary, who looked down at it like Rowena was trying to hand her a dog turd.  Rowena scowled and retracted her proffered hand, “You must be the beloved Mary Winchester.  I’ve heard so much about you.”  Her lips curled into a wickedly knowing smile, to which Mary responded with a predatory smile of her own.

 

            “I sincerely doubt that,” Mary said as Sam stepped between the two women.

 

            “Hey, let’s just do what we need to do, Rowena, then you can go back to cursing innocent people and eating babies, or whatever it is you’ve been up to,” he stated.

 

            “Fine,” Rowena spat, “But what do I get out of this little venture, hmm?  Fergus said he’ll get out from under your thumb, but where does that leave poor, little Rowena?”  The witch assumed a posture of penitence, something that truly did not suit her.

 

            Sam straightened up to his full height and did his best to loom over the tiny red head, “How’s this?  I don’t let my mother come after you for at least, hmm, let’s say, a week?  That seems fair to me.”

 

            Rowena narrowed her eyes at Mary and stood silent, contemplating all the ways a Hunter like Mary Winchester could screw up her carefully crafted life.  She turned dramatically to her son, “And you have to reverse the spell you’ve been using to keep tabs on me,” she demanded, glaring at Crowley.

 

            Crowley opened his mouth to protest, but one look from Sam had him snapping his mouth shut.  He grumbled and folded his arms across his chest before pinning his mother with a sharp stare, “Fine, I’ll reverse _that_ spell.”  His emphasis on the word ‘that’ was lost on no one and Rowena reluctantly turned back to Sam and Mary.

 

            She sighed heavily, “Shall we then?”

 

 

            Dean stumbled into the kitchen the next morning, hair flat on one side and sticking straight out on the other, grunting in acknowledgement of Sam’s presence as he made his way to the coffee maker and, squinting under the fluorescent lights, poured himself a mug of liquid sunshine.  After gulping half of it down, he finally looked at his brother who was staring at him strangely.

 

            “What?” he asked testily.

 

            “N-nothing,” Sam stammered and cleared his throat, “How’re you, uh, how’re you feeling?”

 

            Dean studied Sam as much as his sluggish brain would allow, which, this morning, was for roughly three seconds, “Like hammered dog shit.  Why?  You gonna lecture me about drinking? Again?”

 

            “No, no, nothing like that,” Sam returned his attention to his laptop and scooped the last spoonful of cornflakes up, “just wondered if you two had fun last night,” he muttered before stuffing the cereal in his mouth.

 

            Dean finished his coffee and refilled his mug while he pondered Sam’s sudden concern for his and Cas’ late night bar hopping.  He watched his brother over the top of his mug as the younger man cleared his breakfast dishes from the table and packed up his computer before scurrying out of the kitchen.  Dean shrugged and swigged the last of his second cup, leaving his empty mug in the sink and following Sam out into the library.

 

            “Yeah, I guess we did, don’t really recall a whole lot after the third bar we hit, but I’m sure Cas could tell you all about it.  You know how hard it is to get him drunk, angelic constitution and all,” Dean explained as he passed Sam on his way to his room, “Imma get cleaned up,” he said, clapping his brother solidly on the shoulder on the way out of the library.

 

            Sam heard his brother’s muttered and awkward exchange of ‘hello’s’ with their angel friend and then Cas was walking into the library in that determined and serious way of his, “Hello, Sam,” he deadpanned as he stopped before the table Sam had set up his laptop and lore books on.

 

            “Morning, Cas,” Sam smiled genuinely at his friend, “Did you guys have fun last night?”

 

            Cas tilted his head as he considered his answer, “I believe Dean was satisfied with our adventures last night.  I, too, had ‘fun’ exploring the local drinking establishments.  They were all very alike but also quite different,” he explained, taking the seat across from Sam.

 

            “Did you two just drink, or did you play darts or anything?” Sam asked innocently.

 

            “Dean insisted on teaching me how to play pool,” Cas blushed as he plucked the book on top of the stack in front of him and idly flipped through a few pages, “This book appears interesting.  Are you studying it for a potential case?”

 

            Sam narrowed his eyes at the attempted dodge, “Pool, huh?  How was that?”  Sam grinned at the mental image of a flustered Cas getting Dean’s special brand of pool instruction, a ploy he’d used for nearly a decade as an excuse to flirt.  The pink that started on Cas’ cheeks spread to his neck and over the tops of his ears.

 

            The angel cleared his throat and opened his mouth to answer Sam when Dean strolled back into the library wearing his standard worn jeans, dark t shirt, and ragged flannel.  The two stared at each other for one of those interminable moments, the kind Sam mentally referred to as eye-fucking, and he knew this was it.  If the spell had worked like they hoped, this was when he’d know.

 

            Cas’ mouth snapped shut and he cleared his throat again, opened his mouth again and just as quickly shut it.  Dean’s brow furrowed as he, too, opened his mouth to speak then shut it again with a confused look on his face.  The two stared at each other as Cas made another attempt to speak.

 

            “ ** _Whenever I’m alone with you,_** ” Cas sang loudly before he clamped a hand across his own mouth, his eyes going wide and panicky in surprised shock.

 

            Dean stared, open-mouthed, at his best friend for a split second, before he erupted in laughter, which abruptly ended when his attempt to make fun of Cas came out as more singing, “ ** _You make me feel like I am home again,_** ” whereupon Dean now stood with a hand clasped over his mouth, eyes just as bugged out as Cas’.

 

            Sam’s grin spread slow and syrupy across his face, but he quickly quashed it as both his brother and his friend whipped their flaming red faces toward him.  Sam put his hands up in a warding off gesture and stood up from his chair, backing away slowly.

 

            Dean was the first to recover, “Sam! What the fuck? What, I mean, what the fuck?!?!” he sputtered.

 

            Cas was back to staring at Dean in disbelief, but he’d let his hand fall into his lap when he opened his mouth to ask Dean what was going on and, instead, burst into song again, “ ** _Whenever I’m alone with you_** ,” Cas looked straight down at the table, his eyes screwed shut as he concentrated, “ ** _You make me feel like I am whole again._** ”  Cas looked back up at Sam with a look of utter confusion, “Sam? What…” Cas shook his head and looked back at Dean.

 

            Dean shook his head, too, slowly, backing up away from Sam and Cas, looking like he was ready to bolt, when Mary came through the library entrance smiling, “Good morning, boys.  Is there coffee made yet?”

 

            All three men looked at her, but Sam spoke first, “Um, Mom, let’s, um, let’s go in the kitchen.”

 

            “No! No, just wait a goddamn minute, Sam!  What the Hell is going on?  Why are we just singing to each other?  Why can’t Cas and I just talk to each other?” Dean’s eyes narrowed at his brother’s slouched shoulders and shifty eyes, “Sam, what did you do?” he asked in his sternest big brother voice.

 

            Sam had the good grace to at least look sheepish before he grabbed Mary’s arm and rushed her out of the room, throwing, “You are talking to each other. Finally,” over his shoulder.

 

            Dean started to follow them, but Cas stopped him with a hand on his wrist, looking up at Dean with those impossibly blue eyes and whispered almost miserably, “ _Whenever I’m alone with you, you make me feel like I am young again_ ,” his brow scrunched in an effort to say something, anything else.

 

            Dean meant to tell his friend not to worry, he’d hold Sam down and get to the bottom of this, if he had to, but what came out was, “ _Whenever I’m alone with you, you make me feel like I am fun again._ ”  Dean shook his head and stalked into the kitchen, Cas trailing behind him.

 

            “Sam, you better spill right the fuck now because this is not funny!” Dean yelled as he found Mary and Sam huddled conspiratorially over the coffee maker.

 

            Mary was the one to answer him, though, “Don’t yell at your brother, Dean, it was my idea,” his mother stated as she jutted her chin out and squared her shoulders.

 

            “What was your idea?” Dean asked darkly.

 

            Mary’s face had been soft with a quiet look of guilt, but at Dean’s tone, her mouth drew down and her features sharpened, “Well, since you insist on being so stubborn and foolish,” Mary looked past Dean to Castiel, “both of you,” back to Dean, “we worked a tiny little spell to help you two admit how you feel about each other,” she explained, crossing her arms across her chest defensively. 

 

            Dean gawped at his mother.  Granted, he didn’t really know this woman, so newly given back to him by Amara as supposedly, the thing he needed most, but he thought he at least knew _Sam_ better than this.  The thought that Sam and Mary had been working magic on him (and Cas, can’t forget him) behind their backs, for whatever reason, made his skin crawl a little, to say the least.  He set his face to ‘disappointment’ and glared at Sam, “Sammy, how could you?”

 

            Sam sighed and slumped where he stood slightly behind their mother, “Eight years, De,” he said softly.

 

            Dean was caught off guard by the childhood endearment and immediately felt guilty for thinking that Sam might have not had the purest of intentions.  The clarion call of ‘Sammy-Comes-First’ fed his self-loathing and he backed up a bit, almost stepping on Cas, who stood silently behind him.

 

            “Eight years I’ve watched you struggle with your feelings for Cas, loving him before you even recognized that you _could_ , loving him even when you _hated_ him, trying to tell yourself and everyone else that it was _brotherly_ love when it so clearly _isn’t_.  De,” Sam finally turned his sad puppy eyes back to his brother, “I would do _anything_ to help you find happiness, don’t you know that?”

 

            Dean opened his mouth to crack out a snarky comeback but shut his mouth just as quickly in the face of the look his mother was sporting.

 

            Mary walked up to her oldest son and touched his cheek gently, all the love and regret her thirty years away from her boys had caused flooding her eyes, “Let someone help you, just this once, Dean,” she sniffed back the tears that threatened to spill, “Maybe _this_ is what Amara meant when she said she wanted to give you what you needed most,” she whispered as she placed a small kiss to his stubbled cheek, backing away to grasp Sam’s hand and tugging him toward the garage, “We’re gonna be out for a while, at least a couple hours, maybe overnight.”  And with that, his mother and brother were gone, leaving him alone in the kitchen, with his angel, no, _the_ angel.  Fuck that, Cas was _his_ angel.

 

            Dean turned to Cas, intending to tell him he was going to his room to think, but as soon as he opened his mouth he closed it again, knowing the words he planned were not the ones that would come out.  Instead, he looked at the floor, shook his head, and started out for his room.  He was so busy trying to figure a way out of the situation his well-meaning family had put them in, he didn’t hear the minimal noise Cas always made when moving through the bunker. 

 

            Dean stopped as he got to his door and just stared into his room.  His full-sized bed with plenty of room for another person, if they didn’t mind being very close.  His dresser and closet with more than enough space for another person to put their limited wardrobe.  The walls were bare and boring, lots of room for improvement there.  Then back to his bed, with its single pillow and didn’t that say a lot about Dean’s private life?  Barely enough of him to fill up a small bedroom.  Either because of his lifelong gypsy habits or a conscious choice to limit his impact in case he was dead (again) tomorrow, it was a pretty damn sad way to live.  Sure, he had Sammy and now he had his mother back and, of course, he had a best friend, but was that all he _really_ wanted to fill up his days?  He didn’t feel guilty about finally having a home and a bit of stability, why should he feel guilty about wanting someone special to share his little life with?  And who, in all the world, was more special to him than Cas?  Who else but him could ever understand Dean?  Who had fucked up just as much and tried just as hard to make things right between them?  Who cared for him like Cas?  Nobody, that’s who.  If Dean were ever going to make anything resembling a relationship work with anyone, it would be with Cas. He needed to talk to Cas, even if he had to sing cheesy love songs to him, it was better than ignoring him.  He deserved better than that.

 

            Dean turned around to head back to the kitchen and there was Cas, right behind him.  Dean startled but not as badly as he used to.  Dean looked down then back up at Cas, who was looking at Dean with his head tilted in confusion.  He wanted to ask the angel why he had followed him, but, of course, what came out was more song lyrics, “ _However far away, I will always love you_.”

 

            Cas stared at Dean’s mouth as it sang to him.  He wanted to tell Dean it was okay, they didn’t have to do this, they could go back to the way things had been.  He was pretty sure the low-level spell would wear off if they just gave it some time and avoided each other, but the look of defeat on his friend’s face wrung a fist around his heart and he responded the only way left to him, “ _However long I stay, I will always love you_.”  Both their breathing had sped up considerably now and Cas involuntarily stepped further into Dean’s space, until their chests touched with each of Dean’s inhales.

 

            Dean’s eyes tracked down to Cas’ lips and locked there as his breath hitched in an almost-sob, “ _Whatever words I say, I will always love you,_ ” he whispered.

 

            Cas brought his hand up to cup Dean’s cheek, his friend’s stubble scratching pleasantly against his soft palm and Dean closed his eyes as he leaned into the tender touch.  Cas brought his face up to Dean’s, their lips a hair’s breadth apart, “ _I will always love you,_ ” he breathed. 

 

            Dean pressed his lips to Cas’, finally discovering what he’d been wondering about for eight long years, the plush press of those wide, pink lips was absolute heaven.  The soft slide of his friend’s mouth remained chaste as Dean’s knees turned to jelly and his heart stuttered in his chest.  What could have been minutes or hours later, Dean finally broke the kiss and leaned his forehead against Cas’ as he struggled to even his breathing out, “ _Fly me to the moon,_ ” he whispered.

 

            A rush of pure _want_ exploded through Cas’ body at that with an intensity he’d never known, and it took his breath away.  Between one second and the next, he had Dean laid out beneath him in the man’s bed and held himself above Dean, basking in the look of surprised delight on his face.  Cas couldn’t help but say the next lyrics softly, “ _Whenever I’m alone with you, you make me feel like I am free again,_ ” before kissing Dean again.  He slid the tip of his tongue lightly along the seam of Dean’s lips and was immediately rewarded with Dean opening for him in a breathy gasp.  Cas plundered the mouth he’d longed to know all these years and was not disappointed in the whiskeyed coffee taste of him.  Cas groaned into the kiss and ground his hips down on Dean’s, sliding their erections together.  The friction elicited a grunt out of Dean, even through four layers of fabric and Dean broke the kiss to pant as he threw his head back against the pillow and squeezed his eyes shut.  Cas took the opportunity to place open-mouthed kisses across Dean’s sharp jaw and down his neck to his Adam’s apple, licking and sucking it even as it bobbed as Dean cleared his throat to speak again.

 

            “ _Whenever I’m alone with you, you make me feel like I am clean again,_ ” Dean sang softly as he pulled Cas up by his chin and claimed his mouth again.  It would have been easy to lie under Cas and explore the simple act of kissing for the rest of his life, but he wanted _more._   After waiting and wondering for so long, he _had_ to know what Cas was hiding under his Holy Tax Accountant getup.  Dean continued the urgent kisses and light grinding Cas has initiated while he worked his fingers over the buttons of Cas’ too-large dress shirt, pulling the tails out of Cas’ slacks and popping the last few buttons as Cas finally got the hint.  Cas pulled back to shrug his shirt off as Dean leaned up enough to shuck his flannel and toss it aside. 

 

            Cas watched with lust-blown eyes as Dean pulled his t shirt over his head and flopped back down to open his belt and pop the button on his jeans before going to work on Cas’ belt.  Cas smiled down at Dean’s enthusiasm and breathed, “ _However far away…_ ”

 

            Dean grinned in triumph as he pulled Cas’ zipper down, “ _I will always love you_ ,” he finished.  Dean pushed his own jeans and boxers down, lifting his hips just enough to clear his ass before working Cas’ pants down to his thighs.  His breath caught again when Cas’ erection sprang free of his boxers, long and thick, the uncut head just peeking out of the foreskin and glistening with precum.  He glanced back up to Cas’ face, which was trained on Dean’s cock as it bobbed with every breath against his stomach.  He was slightly smaller than Cas, but Cas’ mouth watered at the sight of the thick vein running in a zigzag up his length, terminating at the frenulum beneath his purpled head.

 

            Cas met Dean’s eyes, their grassy color almost lost to black pupil.  “ _However long I stay,”_ he breathed as he plunged down to crash his lips to Dean’s, bringing their cocks into contact, bumping in a dry slide of velvet skin.  Both men groaned as their mouths separated just enough to let the sound pass then they were licking into each other’s mouths again.  Dean squirmed under Cas, working his pants down until he could hook a toe in the opposite pant leg and drag it off completely before pushing the rest off with his free foot.  Cas pulled back when he realized what Dean was doing, but just long enough to slide his own clothes off quicker than he’d ever done before.  Dean took the opportunity to fling his left hand up and rifle through his nightstand drawer for the half-full bottle of lube he kept there.  As his fingers closed around the plastic bottle, he nearly shouted in triumph, but it came out as, “ _I will always love you!_ ”

 

            Cas grinned down at Dean, “ _Whatever words I say,_ ” he laughed, taking the lube from Dean’s hand as he bent down for another kiss. 

 

            Dean ran a hand around to the back of Cas’ neck, gripping the soft hair there and holding Cas in place, just millimeters away, as he mouthed, “ _I will always love you,_ ” before pulling him in to another, even deeper kiss.  Cas fumbled with the cap on the lube but managed to get it open, squeezing it too hard in his excitement and squirting a cold stream all over Dean’s balls.  Dean jerked and hissed in shock, but laughed at the look of horror on Cas’ flushed face.

 

            Cas’ blush of lust instantly turned into one of embarrassment and he hung his head to avoid Dean’s eyes.  He’d ruined the moment and now Dean would see what a fool he really was.  He felt a hand on his cheek as Dean guided his face back up.  Dean was smiling.  He looked so happy, so absolutely, perfectly amazing, so much love it was just shining out of him.  Cas’ shoulders relaxed, and he smiled back, letting every ounce of his adoration for this beautiful man show through as he said, “I will always love you.”

 

            Dean let out a sob of relief as he felt something inside him loosen and let go, something he hadn’t even known was bound so tight.  He heaved a breath and looked up excitedly at Cas, who was as still as a stone, watching Dean.  “Cas,” he sighed, “Cas, it’s gone.”

 

            Cas’ heart plummeted, his stomach twisting in the way he knew meant he was going to be sick.  Dean had only been acting this way to appease the spell, he didn’t _really_ love Cas, he _couldn’t_ love Cas.  Cas closed his eyes and drew back, dropping the bottle of lube and curling in on himself, ashamed he had fallen for such superficial magic, a whimper escaping before he could stop it.

 

            “Whoa, whoa, buddy, hey,” Dean reached out for Cas, only to have his friend flinch away and pull back further, “Cas? Hey, man, why’d you stop? What’s wrong? Hey, damnit, look at me.”

 

            Cas dared to peek at Dean from under his brows but immediately ducked his head again, whispering, “I’m so sorry.”

 

            “Wait, sorry? Sorry for what?” Dean sat up and grabbed Cas’ shoulders before he could pull away again, “Please, Cas, I don’t wanna stop, I…” Dean looked down, trying to catch Cas’ eyes, “I want this, I want _you_ , buddy.  Please say, please tell me you want me, too?”

 

            Cas looked up at Dean, seeing all the hope and desperation in his face and all doubts fell away.  “Yes, Dean, yes,” he breathed and launched himself at the man under him, knocking Dean onto his back as their mouths crashed together in a bruising kiss that was all writhing tongue and clashing teeth.  Dean uttered a stunned ‘Mmph’ as Cas cradled his balls, smearing the lube that had splashed there and spreading it up Dean’s flagging erection, stroking him quickly back to full hardness.

 

            “Shit, yeah, Cas, oh wow,” Dean panted as Cas made his way down his neck, licking and nibbling at Dean’s collar bone, “Oh wow, yeah, that’s…ah…fuck, that’s perf-fuck, that’s good, shit yeah, oh…ah…that’s…” Dean bit back a yelp of surprise as Cas moved from his throbbing cock to smooth his index finger around his tightened balls and down his perineum, ending in warm, wet circles around his virgin asshole.  “Oh wow, we’re, um…ah, that’s actually really, um nice, we’re really doing this, huh?”

 

            Cas looked up at Dean as he laved his tongue across a nipple, his blue eyes wide for an instant before they narrowed as he grinned impishly and bit Dean’s nipple gently at the same time he slipped his finger into Dean’s furled entrance.

 

            “ ** _Shit_**!” Dean squeaked, tensing as he looked at Cas lavishing so much attention on his pebbled nubs, going back and forth as he hummed his appreciation of Dean’s chest.  After a second, the slight burn Dean had felt at the initial intrusion faded to nothing and he wiggled his ass slightly to encourage Cas to continue.  Although he’d never been on the receiving end of anal, he wasn’t completely unfamiliar with the concept of good prep and considering the size of Cas’ dick, this was gonna take a while.  Dean breathed out slowly and concentrated on relaxing his muscles and was rewarded with Cas slipping his finger in further and further, until he could feel the other man’s knuckles brushing the cheek of his ass.  Cas groaned and pressed his forehead to Dean’s chest.

 

            Dean smirked and started to ask Cas what was wrong when he felt Cas drag his finger back out slowly, bringing back that burn before plunging it back in and stealing Dean’s breath.  Cas growled and started nipping every inch of skin he could on his way back up to Dean’s mouth.  Dean’s mouth was already gaping open when Cas captured it. 

 

            Dean lost all track of time as Cas worked him open and kissed him raw, completely subsumed in an endless cycle of heat and pressure and pleasure and everything _Cas_.  All he could do was try to breathe when Cas released his lips in favor of his jaw, his neck, his ear, and hold on to Cas’ strong shoulder with one hand, the other running ceaselessly through Cas’ dark hair, clenching thick handfuls of it whenever Cas brushed across that spot inside that made fireworks erupt behind Dean’s eyes.  When Cas finally pulled his fingers out of him, Dean whined at the empty feeling it left behind.  Cas just shushed him and grabbed the bottle of lube where it had fallen next to Dean’s hip.  Dean just stared in awe at Cas’ kiss-swollen lips and rumpled hair, thinking he’d never seen anything so sexy in all his life.

 

            Cas slicked up his aching cock and lined up with Dean’s stretched and puffy hole, pulling his legs up to settle around his hips.  He paused and looked at Dean, his cheeks pink, chest heaving and flushed from stubble burn, red bite marks covering his neck and clavicle, eyes glassy with lust, lips spit-shiny with _Cas’_ saliva.  He had to grip his cock _hard_ at the base to keep from coming too soon.

 

            “Come on, Cas,” Dean whispered, “Come on, do it.” Dean reached for Cas arm, trying to encourage him to _move_ already.

 

            “ _Dean,”_ Cas ground out between clenched teeth, “This...ah…this would be easier for you, if you were on your hands and knees, but, um, oh love, I…”

 

            Dean calmed at the sight of Cas so undone, “Shh, it’s okay, Cas,” he hushed, stroking Cas’ arms, “I wanna see you, too.” He smiled at the look of relief that crossed Cas’ face.

 

            Cas took a deep breath and nudged his cock against Dean’s entrance, watching his love for any sign of pain.  Dean breathed out and remembered to bear down at the last second and then Cas was pushing past the first ring of muscle and Dean had to look, past his own swollen and leaking cock to where they were finally joined.  Cas paused as the slick heat and overwhelming pressure flooded his senses.  His attention was caught on Dean’s whimpered ‘please, Cas’ and he slowly began working his cock into Dean.  Some interminable time later, they were both panting, and he could feel Dean’s plush ass cushioning his hip bones.

 

            Dean pulled Cas flush with his chest, so he could kiss the other man while he adjusted to the hot, hard length currently rearranging his insides.  Cas felt impossibly huge inside him, like there was no way this should feel as good as it was starting to.  He hadn’t even lost his hard on, even though it hadn’t been touched since Cas abandoned it in favor of stretching his ass.  Dean suddenly didn’t want to wait anymore.  He urged Cas to get with it by kissing just under the angel’s ear and telling him, “Go ahead, Cas, move.”  That was all the encouragement he needed, apparently, because before Dean finished on an exhale of his last word, Cas was pulling out almost entirely, the ridge of his head catching on Dean’s rim, then sliding home again on a long groan that rumbled out of Dean’s chest and echoed back to him through Cas’.

 

            Cas reached both hands under Dean’s back and gripped his shoulders tightly as he fucked Dean with deep, rolling strokes, rubbing the head of his cock over Dean’s prostrate with every single one.  Dean buried his face in Cas’ neck and got a double handful of the angel’s firm ass, kneading the taut flesh and guiding Cas’ undulating hips.  Their position trapped his neglected cock between their sweaty stomachs but provided just enough merciless friction that meant Dean wasn’t going to last long, even with the distraction of taking a cock in his ass for the first time.

 

            Just as his lust-addled brain was trying to come up with a way to tell Cas to slow down, Cas groaned out, “Dean, I…I’m gonna…Dean, I can’t…” as his thrusts became harder but more erratic.

 

            Dean smiled against Cas’ shoulder, even in this, Cas was right there with him.  Dean turned his head just enough to whisper in Cas’ ear as he felt his own release pooling low in his belly, “Come inside me, baby.”

 

            Cas fucking _mewled_ as his hips stuttered one, two, three more times and then he went rigid, every muscle locking up as fire raced through his body and lights popped like flashbulbs behind his eyes and then he was coming, in great pumping jets, filling Dean with his hot spend.  He was so caught up, he found himself biting into the thick muscle of Dean’s shoulder to keep from screaming his pleasure in his True Voice.

 

            Feeling Cas’ cock pulse inside him and the following rush of warm come marking him up inside pushed Dean right off the ledge.  Waves of electric light rolled through him, heating the top of his scalp and erupting from his toes as he shot thick spurts of come between their stomachs, his back arching as his mouth fell open in a silent scream and Cas just _clamped down_ on his shoulder, forcing a couple more weak pulses of come to blurt out of Dean’s already-softening dick.  Cas’ hips kept up a weak rhythm throughout their climaxes, involuntarily humping his cock into Dean, finally slowing to a stop as Cas collapsed on top of him, Dean huffing a surprised breath.

 

            As Dean enjoyed the float down from the best orgasm he’d ever had, he traced nonsense patterns into Cas’ back.  If he were a cat, he’d be purring, even with the surprisingly heavy weight of his angel on top of him and the slithery feeling of Cas’ come leaking slowly out his abused asshole as it followed the softened dick that had just slipped out.  Cas slowly raised his head from Dean’s chest and looked sheepishly up at him.

 

            “Dean, I’m…I don’t…um, what do you-“ Cas stammered.

 

            “Shhh,” Dean hushed Cas with a finger across his perfect pink lips, “It’s okay, buddy.”  Dean huffed out a breathy laugh, “It’s more than okay, that was…awesome.”

 

            Cas quirked an eyebrow, “’Awesome’?” he deadpanned.

 

            “Well, okay, a little better than awesome,” Dean smiled at Cas’ put-upon expression and eased the angel over to lay more across him than fully on top of him, “How’s ‘best sex I’ve ever had’ sound?”

 

            “That does seem more apt,” Cas grumbled as he stroked his hand across Dean’s sweaty chest gently.

 

            “If you like that, you’re gonna _really_ like this: how’s “I love you, Angel’ sound?” Dean said into Cas’ hair.

 

            Cas looked up at Dean with heartbreaking hope in his eyes, “Do you truly mean that, Dean?”

 

            “Yeah, baby, yeah,” Dean tucked Cas’ head under his chin so he could say it again without being bombarded by his friend’s feelings on top of his own, “I will always love you.”

 

            Cas pulled Dean to his body even tighter as he muttered, “I will always love _you_

."


End file.
